Does an elderly person know when they are dying?

Does an elderly person know when they are dying?

But there is no certainty as to when or how it will happen. A conscious dying person can know if they are on the verge of dying. Some feel immense pain for hours before dying, while others die in seconds. In total, 39 percent of survivors reported feeling some kind of awareness while being resuscitated.

Why is palliative care important for older adults?

This is called palliative care or supportive care. It can be especially important for older adults. This is because older adults can have more side effects, especially from chemotherapy. Or your body may not recover as quickly from surgery as someone younger, which can cause more symptoms.

What did the doctor say to my father?

The doctor said he could give him something that would make him at least sound better, but it would really be more for us than for my father. “My job,” the doctor said, “is about prolonging people’s lives. Anything I give to your father now would simply be prolonging his death.” So we waited.

Why was my father in pain when he died?

We were sure he was in pain. The doctor reassured us he wasn’t; this was a human body dying naturally, shutting down, one bit at a time. We had not, of course, talked about any of this with Dad beforehand; we had no plans for this, no idea of what he might have wanted. It would have been a very difficult conversation. ‘We soothe souls.’

What was the process of my father’s death?

The process, though, did not feel that way at all, at least not to me. Dad had been bedridden for months and was in a nursing home. He stopped eating one day, then started slipping in and out of consciousness. Soon he stopped drinking.

This is called palliative care or supportive care. It can be especially important for older adults. This is because older adults can have more side effects, especially from chemotherapy. Or your body may not recover as quickly from surgery as someone younger, which can cause more symptoms.

We were sure he was in pain. The doctor reassured us he wasn’t; this was a human body dying naturally, shutting down, one bit at a time. We had not, of course, talked about any of this with Dad beforehand; we had no plans for this, no idea of what he might have wanted. It would have been a very difficult conversation. ‘We soothe souls.’

The doctor said he could give him something that would make him at least sound better, but it would really be more for us than for my father. “My job,” the doctor said, “is about prolonging people’s lives. Anything I give to your father now would simply be prolonging his death.” So we waited.

The process, though, did not feel that way at all, at least not to me. Dad had been bedridden for months and was in a nursing home. He stopped eating one day, then started slipping in and out of consciousness. Soon he stopped drinking.